


a flask full of stars, to the lips, take a sip

by monchaton



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Animal Death, Assassin WinWin, Blood and Violence, Explicit Language, Foreign Language, Gang Violence, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Gun Violence, Implied Romance, Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Main Character Death, Minor Character Death, Murder, Other, Police Officer Yuta, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:24:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monchaton/pseuds/monchaton
Summary: A Neo-Noir set in 70's Tokyo, with neon lights, vintage music, and the seedy underbelly of the crime world... and the world of justice we trust too much as well. Yuta Nakamoto, the Head Officer to Tokyo's Police Headquarters, get's pulled into a mess when he decides to protect the strongest assassin, Dong Sicheng, or as they all know him, Oni, from the world of crime he wishes to tear apart for the hurt it has caused him. A touch of romance, a lot of thrilling action, and a journey that's more of a suicide mission, they set to get revenge.





	a flask full of stars, to the lips, take a sip

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! @monchaton here. This is a one chapter, short fic that I thought of after binge-watching the John Wick series in one night. You might find some sullen impressions here and there. This is a TW- this fic is extremely violent and has very garish descriptions of death and violence, as well as death. I do not recommend it for the faint-hearted. The narrators switch a lot, and the end is almost ambiguous to a degree. The glossary to the foreign terms is included in the end. Enjoy the read!

Dong Sicheng. ** _Oni_ ** . The Devil of the Demon Gate. You might play tag, yell ** _oni gokko _ **at the top of your lungs. He will emerge from the deepest pits of hell to pull you by your limbs, drag you to an inferno. He is hell himself, the personification of not just the Devil, but also the flames, the pitchfork, the fire. He blazes all to the quick. 

  
  


I watched him, from the grimy corner of an _ Izakaya, _devouring the towering stack of fried chicken on the table in front of me, as my right hand periodically raised an almost grubby whisky glass to my lips. My breath ghosted over the rim, and my eyes darted over the soft moistness of the bright neon night lights enriched by the nostalgic glow of the paper lamps, almost somber, to the main bar, where he sat. The Devil, nursing his drink, completely out of place. A caricature of dignity and strength in his polished black blazer, with a neatly cuffed dress shirt and tie. Pants, straight-cut. His hair was the only paradox, as was the way he killed. It was bedraggled enough to look like he hadn't brushed it for days, or perhaps ran his hands through it too often. 

Yes. He killed. I sat, looking at a killer, like a man in a Neo-Noir. 

Just as I sat, and looked, a man frozen in time. A figment projected into reality, something caught my eye. I raised my eyes, them widening almost comically as I noticed three men enter the tavern. All of them dressed in a manner too familiar. Patterned silk shirts, gold chains... stinted pinkies and tattoos covering almost every inch of their bared skin. Oh _ fuck, _they were men from the Yakuza. I saw one of them produce a pistol from his back-pocket, and motion at the men behind him. I looked in silence. I looked at his scrawny face, his stunted beard, and the almost identical men, faces set in ghastly sneers, looking on. I saw the motion of their eyes, the pointed look they sent Sicheng... the rifle he produced from the depths of his coat.Then I ducked, as gunshots rang out, hitting walls, bouncing, a frenzy of absolute malignancy. You know what? The gunshots in the movies, they sound so loud, they miss their target, they never run out of ignition. Away from the circular lens, away from the open-mouthed audience that stare in sheer horror at the macabre scenery of horror unfolding. It's like a shell hitting the sense, all dims, your ears ring with fright. I saw, from under my table, their fire-arms, as they ejected bullets, almost aglow in anger as the noise rang out harshly. They all hit the man, who sat still for a millisecond, his back still to the men, riddled now with bullets. He then fell, crumpled to the ground, and all was quiet. The man at the front scoffed, then yelling out a small grunt at the other four men who snickered, turned to leave. 

  


That was before I saw, in front of my very eyes, the crumpled man rise from where he had lied, dead a few seconds ago.His movements were almost gentle, as deadly as a viper's when it strikes. Pulling out a ridged knife, that shone a black as dark as his eyes that moment when he aimed with a precision I had never seen a man have. The man had not taken five steps before he fell to the ground, a knife protruding from his neck, ripping his artery. One of the men let out a yelp to see spurts of blood appear, and quickly turned to his fellows, but I heard a grisly crack as a bullet hit him right between the eyes, and he fell to the ground in the heap. Before the other men could start shooting again, they were ambushed my bullets, and soon all fell dead. Sicheng. He stepped towards the dead bodies, as the man with the knife in his neck croaked.   


"_ You... you died." _

_ "Say my name," _Sicheng said, voice low, husky, bordering on an edge I didn't want to stand on.

_ "D-Dong Sicheng," _the man croaked, his eyes pooling with fear, pure terror.

_ "You thought you would ambush me. _ _ Me _ _ . Oni? And survive?" _ Before the man could say anything, he swiftly pulled out the knife, and I ground my teeth to see a stream of blood pool the floor, as the man gargled and choked, dying. " _ Food for thought. Wear a bulletproof vest the next time you decide to kill someone. I do." _ Before tucking his pistol into his belt, he took a quick bow at the dead bodies "_An honour to fight." _  


As he left, whistling_ Tōryanse, _ I scrambled out from under the table, not caring if I stepped on blood as I rushed into the almost empty street at this time of the night. He was nowhere to be seen. I heard the hollow drumming of _ Tōryanse _ring out in my ears.  


"**_Even in my fear, let me pass, let me pass._ ** _ " _All I did at that moment was empty my stomach, heaving, retching and rushed home.At the time, I did not know who the man was. I would find out later, from the life that was interwoven with his. Yuta Nakamoto. 

  
  
  
************

No one knows how Dong Sicheng dipped his finger into the pool of filth. He was soon pulled in, and powerful enough to be associated with death itself. He had worked with them all. ** _Yakuza_ ** , ** _Cosa Nostra's_ ** American and Sicilian roots, ** _Bosozuku_ ** , ** _Lo-Fu Chu,_ ** The D-Company, ** _Bratva_ ** . He rose to be one of the most sought out after assassins. In the underworld, ** _Oni _ ** made them all shiver, their spines crackling with a nervous energy, hands shaking, because they all saw Sicheng's face in their worst dream. He never missed a shot, he never hit without a precision in target, he never stabbed without hitting the place he knew would leave you dead. He was a man of principles, who took his work ethic as a serious commitment. He was trained in ** _Arnis, _ ** the ancient art of knife-fighting, ** _Dim-Mak, _ ** the almost extinct art of hitting pressure points on the body in a manner it could cause knock-out, or even death, ** _Krav Maga. _ **If someone told me Dong Sicheng could kill with a sultry gaze of his eyes, I would have accepted it. 

  
  
In the underworld, you never know when death will knock at your door. They are all animals, hungry to tear off the very flesh off the bones and devour it with a throwing urgency, quick to the bone. A waltz with the reaper, knife in hand, take a wild stab in the darkness. Nothing says goodbye like a good murder, nothing says power like it too. 

  
  
Mostly, in art and cinema, the assassin is the pawn, used by all the syndicates and thrown aside once it's due is over. It may be a world of rules and regulations, where all are sophisticated, chic and civalised, where ruffians enter for more power and topple down aeons of effort to rise to the top, and then topple to their quick falls, where everyone respects everyone but no one is truly the other's, and a pledge of loyalty is all but a word. But if surpassed, it will drag you to hell and scald you so bad, you will never see the light of the day again. Dong Sicheng was never the pawn, he rose to be the queen and moved in a manner to defeat all in his way. He did his job, got his monetary compensation, went home.

  
  
Until he quit. It was sudden, his move was shocking to the entire sphere of the underworld, connected from one end of the world to the other. He was under the contract of the Yakuza at the time, and when he decided to step off, the ** _Yamaguchi _ **family did not take it lightly. They took it as a disrespect, the years of payment, the years of luxury, all they had given him. When they reminded him of the seal of honour. It had his blood on it, and the seal of blood could not be broken without your life being ripped to shreds. Sicheng, a man of his word, agreed to one last task, whatever it would be. 10 Herculean labours he carried out, setting his reputation in stone, rising to what no one thought a man could. The Yakuza rose from being perfumed envelope from aeons ago to being at the top, the most respected families in the world. 

  
Then? His life was staccato. Silent again, in his small rented apartment with his cat, Hutong. Dong Sicheng was a man worn out of a life very easily. He was physically the same, just as strong, but his heart had grown weary of waking up every day and serving people he knew could turn on him whenever they wanted to. He was a man of principles, a man of rules, who under no circumstances allowed them to tie him down. A paradox, truly. Learned in Russian, Mandarin, Cantonese, Japanese, Arabic, Urdu, French, English all of them, yet spoke just so briefly, his words rotted on the inside. 

  
  
  
  
When he left, it had been 1970 at the time, according to the European calendars, at least. Five years, five years he lived alone, a life of comfortable silence. Five years he spent all but driving his Harley-Davidson and eating at only take-out shops, taking Hutong to the groomer, or going to an ** _Izakaya _ **every weekend for a casual drink, alone at the bar, staring at the bartender as he crafted drinks upon drinks for the people. 

  
  
Have you ever heard this one Japanese tale? It’s called the ** _Kachi Kachi Mountain _ **and narrates a story of revenge. I always heard it when I grew up. A raccoon dog kills an old woman, and her husband, a grieving old man, requests a rabbit he had always fed and given shelter to help avenge her murder. The rabbit catches the raccoon in such a mesh of lies and psychology that he is all but left just as hurt and in pain, dying when the rabbit drowns him. 

Revenge. It’s just you getting bitten in the ass, no matter what happened and how long ago, your fate will turn around and sting you like the serpent it is if you spite it enough. 

  
All it took for the serpent to take a lunge at Sicheng was when a few Yakuza members defiles his mother’s grave. The underworld forgets easily, and moves at breakneck speed towards the future. Dong Sicheng was a name forgotten in the past. A subgroup of the Yakuza ran a mafia where they deconstructed graves, tearing down headstones and clearing the space to pose for ‘new land’ for burial. The same was done to his mother’s, and one day as he walked into the cemetery, he found in peculiar to see no sign of his mother’s grave. Walking to the usual place, he noticed another man’s grave. His world shattered. He was bitten. Poison in his veins, coursing through in a manner that made him the serpent. He tore fate’s head off with his bare teeth and became the one to control fate. 

  
  
  
He was a simple man- he approached the ** _Yamaguchi _ ** boss, demanding for him to be told who the men handling the illegal cemetery business were, which turned out to be his younger, beloved, spoilt brat of a brother. Isikawo Saki. Despite offering him money that could have bought Sicheng a plane of his own, a suite, and whatnot, even penance, Sicheng refused to forgive- he had one demand, for the land to be handed back, or Isikawo. Sicheng had always been a man who asked for respect, and he had it. He had people on the tip on their toes- he hadn’t entered the room yet and they were already standing, nervous energy coursing through every vein in the most malignant manner. The Russian mafia had given him a title- ** _D’yavol_ ** _ , _or The Devil. 

  
Now, the Devil doesn’t take resistance, they had stepped in the no-man’s land. He did what he had to do- he tracked down all of Isikawo’s minions and took them hostage, making them speak who had forsaken the rights of his land, that he had bought. It turned out to be ** _Yamaguchi’s _ **own doing in case Sicheng ever attempted to leave, to make him break and obey. It hurt Sicheng to the core. Not the fact that he had been betrayed in a manner he thought wasn’t possible… betrayal inter-mingles with the world of evil. Betrayal makes them all it’s bitch. What he had thought was that would never step near his family, as family was a sacred trust… they had stepped not near his family, but his closest, most endearing relationship. 

  
  
What happened next, will never be forgotten in the history of the underworld. The ** _Yamaguchi _ ** wasn’t only a mafia boss, he was a politician, a man of power, a man with connections enough to burn Sicheng’s world to shambles. When he realised what Sicheng had done, and what he might do next to make his power come collapsing down on it’s own feet, he contacted all the strongest powers in his region… to get a bomb planted in his house. What went awry was his timing- Sicheng had recently been going on walks alone during the night. He returned from one to find his house burning down to the quick… all his memories… all the love he had shared, the house he had made with years of working to move his mother into a place he could feel proud of. Not only that. _ Hutong had been sleeping in her bed. _

  
  
Sicheng broke in that moment. I think he didn’t break in a way that you do when you lose everything. He broke in a way where he gained only one goal, only one sight, only one aim. _ Revenge… _ that could only be possible with the ** _Yamaguchi’s _ ** and ** _Isikawo’s _ **death. He swore to not die before he had written their deaths in gilded letters with their own blood. 

  
Who am I? I am Yuta Nakamoto. A narrator to this man’s story, who became a part of it too… let with quite a few scratches, I dare say. 

_Blood follow'd, but immortal; ichor pure, _

_Such as the blest inhabitants of heav'n _

  
  
*************

_“Officer, why are you not addressing this, I have told you the man’s name, I have told you where he was, I have told you how he killed, what he said… you’re the best in the department, there must be more to this,” _ I yammered, walking briskly behind Officer Yuta, who seemed annoyed beyond what I had thought he could ever be. His eyebrows were knitted together as he weaved through the desks to get to his own office, while I stumbled and maneuvered behind him, murmuring apologies to the people whom I had pushed into while trying to follow him. Some of them grumbled at glared at me, a junior officer who had just started his job, a mere ** _Junsa _ **in a world of guns, drugs, and crimes that got further out of hand everyday. 

  
  
My only form of support was Officer Yuta, who I immensely respected and looked up to as the ** _Keishi-sei, _ **the Chief of one of Tokyo’s main police stations. But right now, even he didn’t seem to be cooperating with me, and seemed to be attempting to ignore how traumatised I was by the fire-down that had happened in front of me almost a week ago, which I had taken off to hide under my blankets and sleep off. Shuddering at the thought, I sighed and entered Officer Yuta’s office right behind him. He had always invited me for tea and coffee and chatted with me a lot; safe to say, I was his favourite junior officer. We were almost friendly, and him being at his prime- 25, and I being 18, not having a very glaring age difference. Crossly, I sat in the chair in front of him. 

“_ Officer, you don’t seem to want to help me-” _

  
Slamming his hand down on the desk in front of him, as he took his hat off, and pushed it aside, Yuta quieted me with a glare of silent reproach, all the while leaning back into his chair and running his free hand through his mess of locks.   


“_ Hendery if you would quit being a pretentious child for a minute and attempt to hear me out, I would explain everything to you,but you’re still young and have this image in your head where everything is either good and lawful, or otherwise, punishable and deplorable. And I get it. You’re new, young, and very sheltered. You think life is black and white. There is a lot of grey, Hendery,” _he spoke, every word of his anger and frost covered. 

  
I gulped quietly from where I sat and nodded softly, motioning for him to speak and explain. 

  
And he did. 

  
  
  
  
I sat in my place, my feet going cold and as my palms felt like they were heating up, my head felt dizzy and I felt queasy and afraid and all the negative emotions you can imagine. All at once. 

“_ Officer… I don’t know what bond you share with Dong Sicheng, but I can tell you one thing… that man is an assassin, a murderer who murders for money and wealth. I don’t see any grey areas.” _

Yuta sighed, then picking up the landline on his table, dialed to the desk for two cups of coffee and told them to redirect all incoming traffic to ** _Keishi, _ **Superintendent to the police station and he would be busy for a while. Setting the receiver down, he stared at me for a good minute. His eyes always held a ferocity to them I shall never forget. 

“_ Let me tell you one thing too, Kun Hang. Let me tell you this- no department is clean. The police department is knee deep in the blood they have shed. Knee deep. Dong Sicheng, on the other hand, in his career, has never murdered an innocent civilian. He hasn’t tasered, tortured, bound, harassed innocent people. Your department, the one I own an eminent position in, has. What will you say to that?” _

  
I didn’t know what to utter. I stopped, thought. _ “Officer, you are right. But two wrongs don't make a right.” _

  
_“The wrong you’re doing then is sitting in this chair knowing I have old you the dirtiest shit our department has done, and you not leaving. What will you say to that, Hendery?” _He leaned back into his chair. We both sat in complete silence for a few minutes, the tension in the room ready to erupt… until a knock sounded at the door. Our coffees.

A flaming hot cup of coffee, sweet mocha with extra sugar sat in front of me, as did my officer who I had looked up to with immense admiration about thirty minutes ago. I sat and I stared, as did he put instead of staring at me, he stared down at his desk. 

I spoke first. _ “Officer Yuta, I have always looked up to you as a senior. You have always inspired me, and I feel like you see much more in this situation than I ever could. What I need to ask you, after this, is what you might want to do.” _

He looked up, and I saw that his eyes had a pleading look to them. He was pleading me, and I did not know what to do.   


_ “Hendery we help him survive. He had redeemed, he had stepped back, he lost everything and they walked over his life yet again. Everyone deserves a chance, but at this very minute, no one deserves a chance more than Sicheng. To me, he is Sicheng, not _ ** _Oni._ ** _ You have the choice to walk out. Will you?” _

I got up, and I saw the hurt flashing across his face. _ “No, I will not walk out of this case and I will help you to my utmost. I think I might have aged and realised… a lot more in this one hour than I could ever do. However, I am walking out of your office right now, because I believe the other’s might be very curious about what we talked about.” _

  
  
  


I saw a ghost of a smile touch his lips, as he silently shook his head at me and returned to the papers and files littering his desk. Before I walked, I turned around. _ “Not my place to ask, Officer, but how do you know Sicheng. Your worlds are polar apart.” _  


He laughed, a loud, raucous laugh. _ “Now that is where you are wrong, Hendery. That is where you are wrong. No worlds’ are more interconnected and aid each other more than the underworld and the world of justice. They’re almost the same. Except for one thing. The latter is just as rotten, with a better shell.” _

  
  


I walked out. Then I realised he never told me how he met Sicheng. I thought about it all night. 

  
  
************* 

  
  
The next thing I knew, two weeks into the conversation with Yuta, I was in a derelict warehouse with Sicheng. He sat on one of the chairs Yuta had arranged to be put inside, eating his cup ** _ramen _ ** very calmly, all the while eyeing me, as I fiddled with my revolver and gulped every now and then, sitting three feet away from him. He radiated intimidating energy and I almost felt like I was rabbit seated very quietly in an eagle’s nest. Not only that, he sat completely straight all the time, perfect posture and all, and his attention seemed to be equally concentrated and set on everything in sight. It made _ me _anxious.   


_ “Are you scared of me?” _he vocalised, very grimly, while his lip quirked up. It was such a varying contrast that it made me squirm a bit in the corner.   


“_Not… particularly. I am just here to protect you.” _

  
He seemed extremely amused. _ “Kid, I have killed an entire squad trained by Mossad. I don’t think I particularly require your protection.” _

  
  


_ “Oh,” _I vocalised. Then I decided it was a good idea to attempt to be friendly. 

  
  
  


_ “If you don’t mind me asking, how did Yuta and you originally meet.” _

  


_ “Not in a very special way. He was in the force supposed to attend to and address… matters of hygiene and all after I completed a mission.” _  


_ “So… to clean up after you?” _I spoke, softly. He nodded with a soft shrug. 

  
  


I tried to carry the conversation on. _ “So… you guys are best friends?” _

He raised a brow. _ “I guess you can say that. Our world doesn’t work that way.” _

  
  
Then I decided to pry further, especially since I had seen Officer Yuta’s wallet the other day, with a picture of a man that looked incredibly alike Sicheng. _ “Oh, so are you guys… a thing… I mean… I don’t know...I…” _

He squinted. It seemed as if he would either tackle me to the floor in a chokehold or ignore my words. Luckily, he did the latter. _ “Go to sleep. Enough talking.” _Extremely embarrassed, I took his opinion, and after I was sure he had gone to sleep in the small camping kit Officer Yuta had given him, dozed off in my chair.

  
  
  


It was exactly 2:00 a.m. when I heard a loud gunshot, only to be awaken to the sound of a struggle. Before I could reach for my revolver, I felt someone kick me. I crumpled to the ground and quickly thought of the rules I had been taught in such a situation: Fight or Flight? I chose the former. I quickly got up, to fight as my destiny had written, to only hear another gunshot. The man who had pushed me… and who had a _ combat knife… _to stab me, fell dead. 

  
I turned around to see Sicheng standing with a revolver in hand. Then I looked around, dazed, to see almost eleven dead bodies, all killed very cleanly and quickly. And then I remember feeling very queasy and throwing up. Sicheng waited for me to get better for a few minutes, as I heaved on my knees. I saw a flash of concern on his face.   


_ “H-How did they get here? This is the safest warehouse in the city,” _I croaked. 

  
  
  


_ “People do a lot to win a $7-Million bounty, kid,” _ Sicheng spoke, staring at the shock on my face. _ “Ah, Yuta never told you. What the fuck?” _He clicked his tongue in annoyance. I remember fainting.

  
  
  
**************

Briskly striding back and forth around the small apartment, I waited for Hendery to wake up from his delirious slumber. The boy who hadn’t seen a revolver be fired had just witnessed a bloodbath and was absolutely shaken to the core by it. But it had been 3 hours by now, and he was still feverish, whimpering, half-asleep in my bed, as Sicheng attempted to calm his fever with some herbal remedies he had, and I sat in the living room switching the T.V on and off in the darkness of the room, my eyes flickering. I was only broken out of trance when Sicheng stepped into the room, and very softly, placed a steaming hot cup of tea near me. Gently nodding, I smiled at him. He took a sip of his own tea, sitting beside me, and gave me a quick smile. 

_ “Thank you.” _

_ “It’s not an issue, you have been helping me a lot.” _

_ “It was the right thing to do.” _

He gave a sigh. _ “Your definitions of right and wrong have always been very warped, Yuta.” _

  
  


I raised a brow in return, gently reaching out to trace the lines of the palm of his hand. I traced slowly the stamped mark of red on his palm, a singular Symbol of Holy Trinity- glaring just as it had been years ago. _ “Your definitions too, Winko. Yours too.” _

He briskly got up, his hand felt like cold sand slipping through my digits. Standing up, he drained the cup and left the room to go to the kitchen. I was left alone with the flickering T.V playing ** _On’yado Kawasemi _ ** while I sat. Alone, cold, bitter, helping someone I didn’t know if I should. I breathed, and the phone rang out. I got up to approach the landline, and holding the receiver to my ear, spoke: “_Hello, this is the Nakamoto residence.” _

_ “Officer Nakamoto? Superintendent Officer Taeyong here… you had asked for details about Isikawo Saki. He recently got transported to a safehouse under instructions to be protected at all costs. Is everything fine?” _  


_ “Ah, Officer Taeyong. Yes, I was in on the team and they told me to keep checking up with the details, since he’s been threatened. And Hendery’s sick… you know how he’s living in my apartment because his parents are my best friends.” _

_ “Ah, OK, Sir. I will try to keep updating you. Inspector Jaehyun is on duty at the moment, you can contact him. The safehouse is in a five-mile radius within _ ** _Meiji Jingu, _ ** _ where we previously kept Yuki Haruka.” _

_ “Thank you, Taeyong. I will be dropping the line now.” _

  
  
  


Getting away from the landline, I turned around to see Sicheng standing and looking very closely at me. 

_ “Do you know this is going to be a suicide mission? You can stay home with Hendery. You don’t need to accompany me.” _

I sighed. I looked at the way his eyes looked in the pale light of the still flickering T.V. _ “You will never get in if I don’t, Sicheng. You never will.” _

  
  
_“You’re signing up for your own death, Nakamoto.”_

  
_“You can’t stop me.”_

_ “Have you ever listened to what I have told you?” _

_ “Well, did you listen to my words eleven years ago? The Yakuza, Madame Gael and her school, the drug cartel, the Russian Mafia? Did you?” _

Sicheng sent me a stare of annoyance. At that moment I realised we were strangers. _ “Get ready, Nakamoto.” _

  
  
  
**************

Ready we were. Sicheng had armed himself with the sub-machine gun, two pistols tucked in his belt, while I was armed with my off-duty revolver. The perks of being a police officer- accessing any form of ammunition was easier than reporting a crime to the police. Really makes you wonder about the rights and wrongs of the world. 

  
  
I drove my Mustang in silence, the softness of Mariya Takeuchi’s voice drifting through the speakers. Sicheng was completely hidden in the trunk of my car, using his contortionist ability to hide himself inside a travel bag. How he was breathing inside it, I had no idea. 

  
  
The paleness of the moon and the streetlights owed to the world looking as if it had been bathed in yellow. Every now and then, neon lights would flash past. The radio jingled, ads quickly running past. I drove. I drove till I reached ** _Meiji Jingu, _ **and stopped for a moment to pray. It was the first time I had prayed in years. Then I continued over to the safehouse, and stopped to a halt outside the gate. It was guarded to a degree I hadn’t imagined. I spotted ten officers at the front door, and one of them, who I regularly met on duty, approached me.

_ “Officer Nakamoto? You here?” _He questioned, almost bowing out of respect. I nodded.  


_ “Yes, Sera, I am here. Hendery felt better so I thought I would drop in for duty. Please inform Officer Jaehyun I am here, and that Superintendent Taeyong informed me of the safehouse placement.” _

_ “Yes, Officer. Please park your car in the drive-through.” _

  
  
  


Driving into the precariously guarded house, I parked in the wide driveway, and got out. Very swiftly, I left the trunk of the car open in a way no one would notice I had done so. Tapping softly on the trunk, as a signal that we had reached, I briskly walked to the front door of the safehouse. 

  
  


It was the great ** _Titanomachy… _ **an era coming to its end far too soon.

  
  
  


************** 

  
I, Dong Sicheng, have seen death far too many times, far too close. I have seen death, I have seen humans being defiled, I have seen the ones that claim to be the protectors burn their morality to the ground out of the eye of the public. I have seen it all, and very rarely do I wish I hadn’t. Naivety is the first contender when it comes to loss in life. It being ripped away is not a pleasant feeling, yet a wound that remains unhealed for a lifetime.   
  


Sitting in that bag, sitting in it, I felt as if my entire world was disintegrating. I was a man hunted. The predator was now the prey, yet I couldn't care less. I wanted to get my revenge, and I would have it. From the ashes, into the ashes, meant for the ashes. 

I breathed, and very silently, zipped open the bag, slowly to make sure none of the on-guard officers caught a whiff. I hoped they hadn’t, since two of Tokyo police’s best officers were on-duty in the safehouse. The next few movements were very calculated. I quickly kicked the bag open, and got out, producing the sub-machine gun Yuta had placed very carefully along. Cocking it, I headed out, brisk walking. The coast seemed clear.

  


That was until I heard a very loud gunshot come from behind me, and quickly ducked. An officer had spotted me and was trying his best to alert the others’ to come to rescue, yelling out a plethora of name. Very quickly, I aimed and hit him in the throat, as he fell to the ground. His eyes rolled back as he fell to his knees, and then to his side, dead. Soon enough, other officers appeared, and I fled into the route Yuta had talked to me about before, when he had decided to commit to the operation. Following my sense, I approached the back door of the almost mansion like house, to spot from the corner of my eye a man jumping onto me. Quickly using ,my combat instincts, I sided him with a quick chop the ribs, hearing a grisly crack as he fell face first into the cemented lot. Quickly shooting him in the head, I fired at the Yakuza men left and right, armed with guns and machetes. After that bloodbath was over, I rushed down the route to the house. A mix of police officers and Yakuza men would jump up and attempt to shoot me, or tackle me, and I would quickly disarm them. Luckily, Yuta had loaded enough ammo into the machine gun to last an entire squadron. 

  
  


Soon enough, I reached the back gates of the mansion. Shooting both the guards twice in the head, I shot the lock and kicked open the shutters, and then the wooden door to enter. I was suddenly ambushed, luckily protected by my vest. Quickly, I fired at them, left and right, while attempting to duck from bullets that seemed to whiz past my head. Soon enough, the men were lying in a heap of red at my feet. Wiping my face, I breathed heavily, and jumping over the corpses, rushed inside. 

  
  


Eyes wild with fury, mind thumping, thoughts all but a haze of anger, I rushed. All I felt in my blood at that very moment was the wish to avenge the disrespect my mother had been put through, how an innocent animal, my only love, my only family, my mother's last memory was killed brutally. How my house, that held memories had been burned to ashes. All because of me wanting to step back. 

  
  
  


Fighting fire with fire was all that I had left. To live in a maze of memories unsung.

  
  
  


Rushing into the house, I noticed how it was almost eerily empty. Oh god… had they hurt Yuta? Had they found out he had helped me plan? Quietly, I stepped in to the polished wooden floor, the humongous chandeliers, the place reeking of extravagance. Soon enough, I heard a gun-shot.

Following the sound, I came to a huge, delicately set up room, and a man laying on the floor holding his arm in pain. Which seemed to be Officer Jaehyun, who had often helped clear the underlying troubles for the Yakuza when they were cornered or stuck in a sticky situation. I saw Yuta stand there, his hands wobbling and his breathing shallow as he looked at the man injured by him. In one chair sat the ** _Yamaguchi, _ **his eyes filled with terror, while next to him sat Isikawo. They had only the two officers on security inside, since most of their security had been outside. 

Shaking with anger, I threw my submachine gun to the floor, and produced the revolver tucked in my belt. 

Isikawo looked like he was seeing death, which he was. ** _Oni, D’yavol, _ **The Angel of Death. 

_ “Sicheng, no, I know what I did was wrong, I-I know, but please, you don’t have to kill me, I will return you the land, I-I will.” _  


My hands almost shook, for a moment, I contemplated. Then, the ** _Yamaguchi _ **spoke up. 

“_ It was just a fucking house, man. Just a fucking cat. Just a fucking piece of land.” _

  
  
  


I fired two shots, both hitting their brains. They both dropped dead. 

  
  


I breathed. I breathed in a manner I never had before. I breathed the air of a man avenged. 

I looked at Yuta, then I looked at the man lying on the floor. _ “Yuta…?” _I whispered. 

  


_ “H-He’s fine. I called the police, Sicheng, they will arrive in the next fifteen minutes. You need to run, you need to it, this will just raise the bounty on your head.” _

_ “How much?” _

  
  


_ “$ 14 million.” _

  


I stood and I looked at him, with nothing but the shallow breathing of the injured police officer. _ “Yuta… the Committee will kill you for helping me, it does not take disobedience. I broke their rules when I turned against the clan that I was bequeathed duty to. I betrayed the Yakuza. I betrayed the Committee, and so have you.” _

He nodded, and I saw the lump in his throat. I saw his breathing dim out, I saw his eyes glaze over. 

  
  
  


_ “Winko? Remember that promise 11 years ago? I think it’s time.” _

_ “Yuta… Yuta no. I-” _

_ “Kill me, Sicheng. I allow you to do it. Shoot me once, in the heart. Just promise me one thing. Take Hendery with you into hiding, they will kill him.” _

  


I breathed, and I felt as if my soul was being crushed in a manner I had never imagined. I felt immense pain, and all at once, my world felt like it had lost the last thing I held on to. Raising my revolver, I aimed for Yuta’s heart. He nodded softly. 

  
  


I shot him. 

  
  
  


He died in my arms. I saw him die in my arms, with his head in my lap. It was quick, a mere 5 minutes as all the blood in his heart seeped out. I still hear his last words, sometimes. 

  
  
  


_ “Farewell, Winko. To the eleven years.” _

  
  
  


And then. I left. 

Death, to another door. Death, under the starry sky, with only a single promise. I think I saw Yuta in the stars that night. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> GLOSSARY-  
Oni: A form of yōkai- supernatural demons, or devils  
Oni Gokko: A game of tag, usually played by school children in Japan.  
Tōryanse (通りゃんせ): Is the name of the traditional Japanese children's tune. The words are very sinister.  
Yakuza: Japanese Mafia  
Cosa Nostra: Italian Mafia  
Bosozuku: Japan's motorcycle gangs  
Lo Fu-Chu: Celestial Alliance, a crime syndicate  
D-Company: One of South Asia's biggest criminal syndicates  
Arnis: A form of martial arts  
Yamaguchi: The largest sub-group under the Yakuza  
Izakaya: Informal Japanese pub  
Keishi-sei: Police Officer that controls a main police station  
Junsa: Minor, or new police officer  
Keishi: Superintendant  
On'yado Kawasemi: A children's show during the 70's in Japan  
Meiji Jingu: A shrine  
Titanomachy: The great war of the Greek gods  
D'yavol: Monster, in Russian


End file.
